


Lockdown

by LovelyPlantPrincess



Series: Live a Little [7]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Domestic Disagreements, F/M, Just Fluff & Angst, Lockdowns, Maternal Worry, Multi, Paternal Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyPlantPrincess/pseuds/LovelyPlantPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gemma isn't the only 'stubborn old bitch' around these parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lockdown

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on like 12 different stories in a pattern (none of them are posted) and not completing anything so I decided to post to Live a Little because I felt like I'd abandoned my accounts.

**Otis 'Otto' Delaney**

Otto watches in annoyance as Luann crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly and turns her nose in the air. She wasn’t even going to bother justifying her husband’s idiotic suggestion with a rebuttal.

“Luann, it’s for your safety,” Otto says impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leans comfortably against his bike, his foot planted firmly on either side of hers and his hands resting gently on her waist. Before he’d brought up his so-called ‘stupid idea’, they’d been in a lovely heated session of kissing - enjoying the small break she had before she had to get back to work. Now that Luann was _behind_ the camera - producing, directing, all the _technical_ stuff of the porn business - kissing her didn’t leave a sour taste in his mouth anymore. He didn’t think about all the guys - and girls - she’d been kissing before him that day, and he was able to focus on more important parts of their relationship.

Like keeping her _alive_.

She scoffs in response and turns her head away again, but this time Otto is a little more than fed-up. Grabbing her by the chin, he turns her head so that she’s facing him. Fury-filled oceanic blue eyes lock onto gentle, urging sky blue ones, and this time she doesn’t try to look away.

“Luann, this isn’t a matter of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, this is a matter of are you willing or not? ‘Cause you’re coming either way, end of discussion.”

“Two weeks away from work, Otto? Are you fucking _kidding_ me? You had to know the answer before you asked,” she snaps, attempting to snatch away from him. Otto tightens his grip on her waist and pulls her closer - briefly reaching up and tucking a few honey colored tendrils behind her ear. Despite herself, his wife leans into the touch.

“It’s for the best, Lu. I need to know you’re safe before we handle this shit. It’s hot right now, with the Club and the Mayans. I can’t go out guns blazing without making sure my wife and child are safe,” he says the last part by running his thumb over her still-flat stomach.

Otto knows that if this had happened a month earlier, he would’ve been more lenient. Let her stay at work with a Prospect escort, and then she could spend nights at the Clubhouse - that would be _fine_. But they’d just found out three weeks ago she was six weeks along with his baby, and he couldn’t risk some dirty, uninformed Mayans running a drive-by on CaraCara - especially since she was carrying their first child. He hates to admit it, but he’d rather it be anyone else but his wife and baby.

“Don’t do that,” she whispers, pushing his hand away. There’s no malice in her voice, but he can see that she resented the action. “Don’t use the kid against me. That’s not fair.”

“It is though, isn’t it? You’re being selfish and not thinking of the baby - I have every right to call you out on that,” he growls, knowing that if he pushes her just enough and pulls at just the right moment, she’ll cave in. Just as expected, her face morphs from one of indignance into one of absolute fury. Immediately, she snatches completely away from him and begins to storm off. Otto pushes off his bike and grabs her arm, turning her around so that she’ll face him.

He hears the slap crack through the warm July air before he feels it against his face. As a reflex, he drops her arm and brings his hand to his cheek.

“Otto,” she whispers, once she realizes what she’s done. Luann takes a gentle step towards him and slowly peels his hand away from his face. She winces at the bruise already freshly forming on his cheek, and begins to worry at her lower lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, Luann,” he sighs, working his jaw until the stinging in his face stops. He turns his best sad eyes on her, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his index finger. “Think about it, okay?”

Luann looks like she wants to say something else, but instead she closes her mouth and nods. He kisses the top of her forehead before going back to his bike, swinging his legs over and willing himself not to look back at her.

He knows if he looks back at her, the guilt won’t eat at her as much as it will if she thinks he’s angry. And he desperately needs her to be at that Clubhouse.

* * *

 

Later that day, while waiting for Luann to arrive at the Clubhouse, Otto helps a few old ladies out by reading the little ones a story. He gathers them all at the Reaper table - despite Clay’s indignant protests - and cracks open a book about a family of farm pigs.

However, when he’s halfway through the book, there’s a chorus of cheers coming from the front. Immediately, the kids attention is drawn away - especially Jackson and Opie, who seemed to always be chasing the next new interesting adventure - and they practically leap away from the Reaper table. After making sure Octaviano Jr.’s head is cushioned properly on his shoulder, Otto follows them out.

He’s surprised to find Luann, surrounded by her two best friends and looking around as if she’s searching for something. Her eyes land on him just as her godkids attack her legs, giggling and tugging at the hem of her shirt for attention.

“Didn’t think you were coming,” Otto says, when he’s within hearing range. Luann shrugs.

“I thought about what you said. You were right. Here, I’d have protection and that’s for the best. For me and the baby,” she admits, although she says that last part awkwardly and quietly. Luann gives him a quick once over before her eyes land on his shoulder, where Junior is sleeping soundly. Immediately, she beams. “You look good when you’re with kids. You look… happier.”

“I feel happier,” he grins. Luann is just about to open her mouth again when other Otto’s wife, Cecelia, dips by briefly, taking her newborn off his hands. Otto can’t help but feel a gentle twang of emptiness and cold where Juniors’ small frame once rested against his chest.

“Don’t get any ideas, I’ve already named this one so he’s already mine,” she laughs warmly. Looking down, she notices Junior’s chocolate colored eyes slowly start to blink open. “and he’s gonna start crying in 3… 2… 1…”

As if on a rehearsed cue, Junior begins to whine before full out crying - the sharp wails drowning out the rest of the Clubhouse’s white noise. Luann and Otto exchange confused and mildly awed looks, and Luann’s hand nervously goes to her stomach.

“Okay, baby, I know. It’s time to eat,” Cecelia coos to her child, bouncing with him gently until she can tear away to go feed him. She looks between the soon-to-be parents and smirks at the awe in their eyes. “Second time mom. Don’t worry, Lu. When you’re popping out Little Delaney number two, this whole baby thing will make _much_ more sense.”

Junior’s crying gets more insistent, and he balls his little hands into fists as if he was going to fight someone if he didn’t eat soon. Otto chuckles at the idea while Cecelia kisses Luann on the cheek and disappears into one of the back rooms - probably to breastfeed in private.

“I’m not breastfeeding,” Luann blurts, just as the thought pops into Otto’s head - as if she’s some sort of mindreader. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she shakes her head stubbornly. “Have you seen the tits on women who breastfeed? They’re painfully huge. I mean-”

“Yes, yes they _are_ ,” Tig replies from across the room. He’s sitting at the bar, and there’s a drink in his hand but his eyes are on Colleen, who’s busy picking up the discarded toys all the children kept leaving behind. Her breasts almost spill out of her blouse every time she bends over, and Otto’s best friend certainly seems to be enjoying the show.

“Does anyone in this place listen to their own conversations?” Otto asks pointedly, pulling Luann by the waist to a spot closer to the back of the room. Tig flips him a middle finger just as Clay shouts something about there being a Club meeting in ten, so Otto takes her by the hands and tries to have a private moment despite the chatter around them.

“Thanks for coming. It means a lot that you’re here - even if it probably doesn’t seem like it,” he sighs. Luann shrugs limply and brings their hands up so she can place a gentle kiss to the back of his.

“Otto, I can see it in your eyes, y’know? Whenever you’re around the kids, or even when we’re alone and you’re talking to my stomach as if this little jelly bean can hear you. You’re not scared of fatherhood. You’re scared that you’re not going to _make it_ to fatherhood,” she whispers. Otto dips his head, tendrils of his blonde locks escaping from his ponytail.

He has no argument against that, because she hit the nail on the head. He wasn’t scared of being a father - he eagerly looked forward to it. Every moment of waking day was spent thinking about all the things he’d do with his child once it was born, all the toys he would buy and spoil them with.

He was scared of there being some sort of complication.

With Jackson, he’d been there to reassure Clay as the doctors told him that his son might not make it past the delivery room - and if he did, he might not live to see adulthood. Otto had felt that fear tightening in his chest even though the baby wasn’t his - he didn’t think he could even come close to imagining the pain he’d experience if it had been his son.

It had happened again with Colleen and the twins - he’d stayed awake with Tig for damn near twenty hours as they waited with bated breath to find out if Tig was going to remain a husband. Again, Otto felt that constriction in his chest - it only getting worse when the doctors finally stepped out of the room with somber faces, and loosening up when he saw Colleen _alive_ , and holding two baby girls that were going to live.

“Baby?” Luann asks, drawing him gently away from his thoughts. “Otto, it’s _okay_ to be scared. I am too - hell, I’m gonna be pushing a baby the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a golf ball and I can only imagine the pain of that. But you have to stop smothering me. This time, since things are so bad with the Club and the Mayans, I’ll understand. But no more sending prospects to check on me at work and no more calling me every hour on the hour to make sure I’m okay. That _has_ to stop. I don’t have a congenital heart defect, and failed pregnancies don’t run in my family. I’m going to give birth to healthy baby and it’s going to be alright.”

“I know. I know,” he assures. “Luann, I trust that you’re going to do everything to protect this child from now until the day we die. It’s just… I want that _extra_ mile of comfort, and I achieve that when I-”

Clay interrupts Otto’s sentence, shouting for the Sons to gather in Church. It seems as if he wants them immediately, as even those that tend to linger behind grumble and head towards the room. Otto dares a tentative glance over his shoulder before rising - no one was really up for pissing Clay off today, because the man was already on edge. He _had_ to go.

“We’ll finish this conversation some other time, okay?” he mutters, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Okay, baby. I’ll be here,” she says, and there’s something behind her words that tells him she’d rather not be. Wincing Otto goes to open his mouth, but Tig shouts for him to get a move on, so he drops a kiss to her cheek and rushes off.

Luann drops back into the booth and leans her chin on the heel of her hand.

It was going to be _quite_ the two weeks.


End file.
